


Lessons Yet to Learn

by Ramzes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen, Warnings: Spoilers for The World of Ice and Fire, non-canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2492393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During his travels with a hedge knight, Aegon Targaryen has learned a lot. But there are still lessons that can only be learned at court. Lessons that he needs to learn. Some canon divergent elements now, with TWoiAF released.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: spoilers for The World of Ice and Fire!

The little boy crossed the courtyard like a little ball of lightening – one moment, the blur of soiled clothes and mop of black hair was at the gate and in the next, he had already disappeared behind the shadow of the guest hall. The women sweeping the grey flagstones looked at his retreating back and then exchanged a look, smiling, shaking their heads. Prince Duncan Targaryen was a sight that could goad a smile out of anyone. And since many of the maids had been here since the time Prince Maekar had been allowed to establish a household at Summerhall, all those years ago, the sight of tiny royals running away from their teachers was not something they were unused to. It was a good thing to see in their everyday routine of maintaining the castle in perfect condition and pour water all over the flagstones to disperse some of the heat. Summer had come mere months ago but the air in the area of the Dornish Marches was already suffocating.

Prince Aemon emerged at the door his nephew had just passed through and followed, although in a considerably more measured step. At the time he reached his sister's solar, Duncan had already handed his parents the parchment that he had insisted to deliver.

Rhae looked up, her face stunned. Her black eyes even looked widened. "Is it possible?" she asked. "The Ironborns were defeated?"

"Looks like it," Aemon said and sat down. "Father sent that from the Southshield immediately after the battle was over. Your Alor Gargalen tricked Dagon Greyjoy into plunging his own _Iron Fist_ into the sands. When their fleet gave chase, he led them within the range of our catapults that shot wildfire. They were all destroyed. And Father killed Greyjoy in a single combat."

"That's impossible," Egg murmured, running his fingers through his hair. "We cannot be this lucky, to end it all in a single battle. And one does not kill Dagon Greyjoy in a single combat just like this."

Before Aemon could remind him that their father had just done exactly that, a shout from Duncan sent them all running for the window where a single raven was making its way over the granaries.

"I have to go," Aemon said and rose, frowning. He had spent three hours fixing the broken leg of the castellan's boy right before the news about their victory arrived and he could have really used a few minutes in a comfortable chair.

When he returned shortly after, his white face and puffy bloodshot eyes told them what they didn't want to hear.

"We have to leave for King's Landing," he said. "Immediately."

* * *

"I was already starting to think you wouldn't make it in time."

That was Maekar Targaryen's welcome when his sons and daughter entered his solar mere minutes after setting foot in the Red Keep.

They hesitated, unsure of how to behave now. Before they could offer obeisance, Maekar waved them in. "Come in, come in," he said and then Duncan, clearly run away from his attendants, rushed in past his parents and threw himself at his grandfather. Maekar picked him up and held him tight before releasing him. "What you did wasn't good," he said, trying to sound stern.

But it looked like that with Duncan, he could never be properly stern. The child's buoyancy, his wide grin, and his dark, non-Targaryen hair always unarmed him completely, so when Duncan tried to look sufficiently remorseful, he smiled and let him stay.

Aegon and Rhae had left King's Landing a few months ago. Now, their father looked even more hardened and extremely exhausted. Huge bags hung beneath his eyes. The lines on his face looked deeper because of the lack of sleep. Fighting the krakens had taken a toll, even if he had won at the end.

He didn't look like a man who had just become king. He looked… haunted.

The Queen Dowager sat on a settee near the empty fireplace. Like Maekar, she also looked prematurely aged and tormented. But she smiled when Duncan ran for her and threw himself in her lap, although she winced in pain. The boy had hit her bad leg, of course.

"Is the funeral really going to take place in the day after tomorrow?" Rhae asked. She was pleased that they had made it and would be able to bid a final farewell to their uncle. But she hadn't really believed that they'd do it. Two weeks was a very short notice for a king's funeral.

Her father's look told her that he knew what she thought. "Now, it isn't the time for lavish ceremonies, Rhae," Maekar said. "The realm has yet to recover. And I won't be spending any money than strictly needed for the coronation either. I intend to use every coin to stabilize the kingdoms and get your sister back."

Rhae and Aegon looked at each other, concerned. It fell on Aemon to ask since they didn't dare. "What's going on with Daella? Is there something new?"

Maekar's fists clenched. "For a while, Bittersteel used Haegon's absence and forced her into undertaking servant duties. Sweeping floors, kindling fires, carrying firewood and so on."

Rhae gasped, shocked. Her eyes went to Aelinor who nodded that it was true.

"Now that Haegon is back, Daella was given her gowns back and once again started receiving the treatment due to her rank. But Haegon is getting more insistent."

Aegon spat an obscene oath. Aemon tried to remember everything he knew about Haegon Blackfyre. Would the news of Aerys' death push him into not waiting further? Their spies told them that both he and Bittersteel were determined to make Daella Haegon's wife and queen. Only Haegon's infatuation with her had stopped him from forcing himself upon her. But for how long would it last _? Daella has been through so much already_ , he thought. _Another husband like her first one might break her mind._

"What are we doing to get her back?" he demanded.

"Lots of things," Maekar assured him and gestured at him to pour wine for all of them. "Alor is on his way there already. I wish I was. Instead, I have to sit here idly and wait for a coronation…"

He spoke so grimly that one might think he was talking about a death sentence and not a crown.

"Many lords and ladies are here already. I heard that Gerold Lannister is close by," he said, changing the topic. "He might not make it in time for the funeral and coronation."

"Aren't you going to wait for him?" Aegon asked carefully. Disrespecting the Lord of Casterly Rock was not a good idea.

Maekar smiled coldly. "No," he said. "He's had enough time. If he couldn't organize his journey effectively enough, well, this is no concern of mine. Besides, Aerys would have liked it better if this child-murderer wasn't around for his funeral. He could hardly abide the man."

It was clear that he shared those feelings. From her settee, Aelinor warned, "I would have been more careful with my words if I were you, Maekar."

He sighed, innerved. "Of course I'll be careful. I just dislike him. I won't be sorry when I see him leave."

"But he hasn't come yet," Duncan said reasonably from the Queen's lap where he was happily munching his trifles with almond paste. "Then how can he leave?"

Maekar went to the round table to bring the boy another plate of sweets.

"He'll get a bellyache," Rhae warned.

"Won't!" Duncan protested and sadly watched the plate getting out of his reach. He slid down on the Myrish carpet and started occupying himself with counting the patterns, cautiously advancing to the sweets.

"It's a good thing that he doesn't have a daughter," Rhae said. "I can see Gerold Lannister trying everything to make such a girl queen. Now, you'll only have the other Houses to fend off," she added. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered her uncle Aerys joking that should she find herself another suitor, they'd need the gold cloaks to push them away.

"If you want to," Aegon added.

Something in his calm countenance angered his father. "Indeed? You'll just let me follow through with it and welcome a new queen and the potential problems that may arise? Your rivals in the succession?"

Aegon shrugged. "A miracle needs to happen before the succession goes to me, anyway," he said. "I am only the fourth son."

"As was I," Maekar reminded him but Aelinor caught his eye and shook her head slightly. Now, it wasn't the moment to talk about political savvy, or lack thereof.

But there was still this worry in Maekar's chest that stubbornly refused to disappear.

* * *

Whatever people said about their new king, no one could deny that he played the part magnificently. Nothing in his cold, devoid of any expression face showed the nightmare of remorse and fear that his nights had become. No one could say that this new crown was crushing him. Now, he was all power and arresting presence. Only a prolonged examination would show that he barely touched some of his plates and other didn't touch at all. Everything tasted like a dish seasoned with ash.

The great hall was bursting with people. Every seat at every table was occupied. The steam from the fifty-five exquisite dishes was floating as high as the dragon banners hanging from the vaulted ceilings, darkening then with black stains. Each one of the fifty candelabra was lit and additional ones brought over, so there was enough light for Aegon to see the bated breath, the gloating, the anticipated pleasure of seeing what the man who had wielded the greatest power in the realm would look like in the moment of his downall.

Brynden Rivers, for the last time wearing his badge of office, looked like someone who didn't hear the gloating whispers. He didn't look cheerful but then, when had he ever? A little gaunter even than usual, swathed in his usual black, he was talking in a low voice to Shiera Seastar who feigned a frown and flicked him on the wrist. Looking at them, Aegon wished that he, too, should have this self-possession in the face of losing it all.

Most of the guests looked already sated when the King slowly rose.

"My lords and ladies," he started. He was never the one for long winded speeches, so he went straight to the gist of what he wanted to say. "I am honoured by your presence here, in this day. But a coronation is only a day and days go away. This one is already fading. And from tomorrow, we all have our duties to return to. The duty of a king is always better fulfilled when the help of a good Hand is enlisted. So I give you my choice, he who will speak with my voice. I give you Lord Brynden Rivers."

The air of the hall moved in a huge collective sigh. Ashen faces and aghast eyes followed the former Hand, now the new one, all the way down the length of the hall. When he ascended to the dais and bowed, Maekar pinned the badge of his office back on his chest, prompting another general sigh.

"I can't believe this!" Aegon whispered to Rhae. He had been watching Bloodraven from the moment Maekar had started speaking, registered no surprise in the man's face, none at all. "By the gods, they can't stand each other!"

"And what of it?" Aemon murmured at his other side. When Aegon looked at him, his brother regarded him with fondness and a little sadness.

"You've learned so much during your travels with your huge knight," he said. "And yet…"

"Yet what?" Aegon demanded.

"Yet there are still some lessons that you haven't learned. Ones that you'll need. I hope it isn't too late."

* * *


	2. Averting the Greater Misfortune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Riana1, for your lovely comment.

The first pink of the dawn had barely touched the red stones that gave the great castle its name when Aegon appeared at the drawbridge, still rubbing his sleepy eyes. The Kingsguard stationed at the end let him in immediately – the Prince was one of the people given unlimited access to his father's person. Still, watching at him stumbling down the bridge, the white knight could not help but wonder what had brought him over here in this hour when he'd clearly rather sleep the rest of the early morning away.

Aegon was asking himself the same question but he already knew the answer. Only five days had elapsed since the coronation and he still hadn't found the right moment to talk to his father. Maekar was constantly surrounded by people, being particularly innerved at those who crowded to curry his favour. At least the Small Council had a sensible reason for approaching him each time he left Maegor's Holdfast. The realm was still in disarray and the famine caused by the failed harvest was not about to go away simply because the man on the Iron Throne had changed. There was no time for Aegon's questions and when in the late evening he and Rhae did see their father for a moment, he was so irritable that no serious conversation was possible. In fact, he paid them no mind, focusing only on his grandchildren. They seemed to soothe his raw nerves.

Aegon walked down the hallways, remembering all the times he had walked them as a young child, wondering why the royal abode was so different from the rest of the Red Keep. "It scares me," he had said. "There aren't any people here. And it's so dark. The sun cannot push its way through those thick walls."

His grandfather, King Daeron, had laughed. "It scared me, too, when I was your age. It is a very dark place built by a very dark man. But you know what? It's the people inside making it the way it is. It changes with each new occupant."

Servants were already awake, bustling about, taking stubs of candles down and sweeping the floors. For a moment, Aegon imagined what the Maegor's Holdfast would look like if the court peacocks found their way here to waylay his father at his setting a foot out of his apartments. All of a sudden, it felt like a good thing that the stronghold was so secluded!

The unexpected clash came at the very door of the royal bedchamber where the two Kingsguard – why two, Aegon wondered briefly – simply refused to let him in despite Maekar's permission for him to come at any time.

"I doubt His Grace meant that you could just come in and wake him up," Ser Roland Crakehall said in response to Aegon's insistence.

"He's probably already awake," Aegon said reasonably. "He's up very early and the Small Council is summoned for sunrise."

"That might be so," the older man said. "But he hasn't shown up yet and I cannot let you go in and disturb him without his explicit command. I am sorry."

The Prince stared at him, wondering what had gotten into both him and his sworn brother. Then, he simply went between them before they knew what was going on and pushed the double oak doors open. Behind him, a muffled cry came, "Wait! The King isn't…"

But he was already in the spacious antechamber, with its jade floor and upholstered benches. Without hesitation, he drew the red curtain hanging in front of an archway and entered the royal bedchamber.

There were some embers dying out in one of the twin hearths and Aegon was surprised. His father was a man who didn't like heat much and even in Maegor's Holdfast, it was summer.

There was no noise, no candlelight. It was clear that Maekar hadn't risen yet. Aegon decided to wait. He flung a garment out of a huge chair – another thing that was inconsistent with Maekar's fondness of order – and took a seat, fighting his own fatigue.

"Who's there?" a voice asked from behind the closed curtains of the bed.

For a moment, Aegon's mind was paralyzed. His eyes went to the outfit he had discarded so nonchalantly; now, he saw that it was a woman's robe.

The curtains of the bed parted to reveal the Queen Dowager, clad in a quickly thrown robe over a nightgown. At seeing him, her eyes widened but otherwise, she gave no indication of her shock. Instead, she came near and asked in a low voice, "Is something the matter?"

Aegon's throat had gone dry but he finally found his voice. "I… I just wanted to talk to Father."

"He's asleep," Aelinor said. "Is it important?"

"It is, to me."

"I see," she said, taking a seat in a nearby chair. Dawn had started making its way through the slit between the curtains and the young man saw that his aunt was also fighting to wake up. "I'm afraid it'll have to wait, then. Lately, he cannot sleep well and I won't wake him up now that he's gone to sleep. One of those days, he'll crumble down where he is."

"But if I go away now, I won't be able to talk to him until…"

He had meant to say _tomorrow_ but paused. There was no way that he would come tomorrow, knowing that she'd be here. He wouldn't have set foot in this chamber today, either, had he known!

"He's _sleeping_ , Aegon."

"The Small Council is gathering at sunrise," he said, not daring to meet her eye. "He needs to rise anyway."

Aelinor glared at him, showing her anger. "Leave him alone," she hissed. "I know which time the Council gathers. That means that he can have some more sleep. The Seven know that he needs it."

Aegon only watched her, mesmerized by her fierce protective anger. She sighed and returned to her normal gentle voice. "He hasn't had a real rest in months. Aerys' illness, Dagon Greyjoy, this new kingly duties… Let him have his rest for now. Please."

Aegon sighed. In truth, he didn't want his father to start questioning him what he was doing in his bedchamber in such an hour. It would only become more awkward than it already was.

"I'll wait for a better moment," he said.

"Thank you," Aelinor replied without seeing him off – she had no desire to make it worse by attracting his notice to the fact that she was only in a nightgown and robe. Besides, in the morning, before she stirred up to activity, her leg ached quite badly.

When he disappeared behind the curtain, she returned to bed. Maekar murmured something without opening hos eyes and draped an arm over her. She snuggled against his warmth and stayed like this until, reluctantly, she had to wake him up.

* * *

"Does this child knows something other than running about?" Daeron asked. "I swear, I get tired just by watching him."

Rhae looked at him over Jaehaerys' head. Lately, the little one had been ill again and was now especially clingy. "What is he doing again?" she asked. "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Aegon?" she said when her husband entered her solar. "Where were you? You were already out when I woke up…"

He took a seat opposite her and looked with surprise at Aemon who opened the door before he could say something more and poured himself tea before he had even sat down. "I thought you were with the Council."

"What would I do there?" Aemon asked, looking surprised. "That's the Grand Maester's job."

"I just thought… Never mind that. Sit down. You'll never believe what I found out. I went to talk to Father. I wanted to ask why he appointed Lord Bloodraven…"

"That, I could have told you, as well," Aemon said.

"Yes," Aegon murmured darkly. "I am sure you could. Anyway, I went to his bedchamber and I found..."

"What?" Daeron asked, looking intrigued.

"Aunt Aelinor. Before sunrise."

"I don't believe you."

Aegon reached for a hunk of bread. "I don't believe me either."

"I don't believe you," Jaehaerys repeated happily, and Aegon laughed.

"What did he say?" Daeron asked. "Why was she there?"

"He didn't say anything. He was sleeping."

All of a sudden, Aemon laughed. "I suggest that you don't go over there whenever you feel like your questions can't wait!" he said. "Because they usually can."

His brother glared. "I already figured that out." Abruptly, he grinned, seeing the funny side of the story. "Gods, what a sight I must have been standing there gaping like a jester…"

"For how long do you think it's been going on?" Daeron asked, still stunned. "I never knew. You think that while Mother was alive…"

"No," Aemon cut him off, firmly. "Surely not."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because it would be against honour and propriety," the young Maester explained simply, making silly faces at Jaehaerys who laughed in delight. Aegon wondered how he managed to both amuse the child and speak so seriously. "I doubt that in his entire life, Father had gone against those, not he. If he had, he would have probably been happier."

"And now…?" Aegon asked.

"Now, Mother is dead. Uncle Aerys is dead as well. And honestly, do you think that Father can sink further where reputation is concerned? He's hardly the first king to take a mistress," he explained, made a gesture over Jaehaerys' ear, and showed him a nut that he claimed he had taken out of his ear. Jaehaerys squealed with delight. "He made his proper match and so did she. What they do from now on matters to them only."

"But…"

"But it's their business and none of ours," Rhae said firmly. "By the gods, are Aemon and I the only ones who don't take it as a great family tragedy? Please, we know what family tragedies look like…"

Now, that was a reasoning a Targaryen could hardly argue with, so they didn't even try.

* * *

 

"I was told you wanted to talk to me."

Aegon swallowed. "I… I did."

In the candlelight, his father's face looked even harsher. In the last years, the young man had had the feeling that Maekar's heart was hardening day by day. Suddenly, he realized that Aelinor had always been the only one who could take the edge off his sternness. Something more, she seemed to enjoy spending time with him. The changes in his temper – for worse – didn't seem to matter to her.

"Go on, then," Maekar invited. "Talk."

From the next room, they could hear Rhaelle's chattering. But today, Maekar didn't send for the children as he always did. Instead, he was looking at his son calmly, expectantly.

"Bloodraven," Aegon blurted out. "Why did you let him keep his office? I thought you hated him."

"What by the gods ever gave you this idea?" Maekar asked, looking so surprised that Aegon felt like an utter fool. But he had no reason to feel this way. The two men had never acted in a way that showed otherwise.

All of a sudden, Maekar smiled. "Ah, I see. You've just got it wrong, that's all. Brynden Rivers and I, we understand each other. We might dislike each other but we understand each other. That's how it always was. Some of his methods might not be to my liking but since I cannot come up with something better, we employ them."

"You… trust him?"

"I do," Maekar said without hesitation. "He's loyal to the crown. And the crown is mine."

"But people say…"

Maekar huffed. "What do I care about what people say about him? They don't love me either. I know the truth, and mine is the only opinion that counts. He's staying because I want him to stay. Because I know just how far his ambitions reach… and the line they will never cross. And I have always known that. Do you have some other questions?"

Aegon looked away and went to the bay window to look at the sea and muster his courage. The last light of the sun spread across the sea a huge sack of raw diamonds and rubies. "Aunt Aelinor," he said and turned to look at his father, at last. "Why did you take her to your chambers?"

Maekar stared at him in disbelief, stricken mum with surprise. "Why do you _think_ I took her there?"

He hadn't lashed out at Aegon, saying that it was none of his business, and the young Prince took that as a sign that he was encouraged to ask questions. "Since when…?"

"Always," Maekar said without hesitation. "Since the day of my birth, some say… her second nameday. Certainly as long as I can remember. I wanted to wed her and it was supposed to happen… but then something else came in the way."

"What was it?"

Maekar paused and then waved a hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter. Let's say that your grandfather was right in placing bigger things ahead of the needs and desires of two spoiled youths, even if those two were his own beloved children. I can't fathom what made Daemon think that he was so much more important than the good of the kingdom after he saw that even we weren't," he added, absent-mindedly before focusing on the conversation again.

With a sudden pang, Aegon asked, "Is that how you saw us – Rhae and I? Spoiled youths, irresponsible children who only thought about themselves?"

His father didn't look away. "If you didn't know what I thought, you would have come to me and plead your cause, instead of wedding in secret."

Aegon knew that was Maekar's honest opinion, had known it all along and yet he was surprised how much it hurt.

"You would have refused us."

Maekar shook his head in despair. "Of course I would have. We're Targaryens. We weren't born to chase after our own happiness. We must all do our duty. And since young people are too selfish to understand this, it falls to their parents to intervene and avert the greater misfortune, no matter how hard that might be for all. Don't you understand?"

"I do," Aegon sighed. Cruel as it was, it was the truth – and the truth was terrible.

"I hope you do." His father fixed him with unblinking stare. "I really, really hope you do."

 

**Author's Note:**

> A.N. The new info from The World of Ice and Fire reveals that after Maekar's death, Bloodraven actually headed the Great Council that chose Aegon V as his successor. This being so, it's hardly unlikely that they took him out of dungeon and dusted him off specifically for this occasion. Most likely, he was never sent there during Maekar's reign. And given the fact that he presided over the Great Council, I'd suggest that he was holding a very influential position at Maekar's court. So, here it is.


End file.
